Twenty-six; and it seemed to her that she had lived the time of two lives! And eight of those years with The Brute! But to-day they would celebrate, they three.

All the morning the cabin was filled with a new spirit--a new happiness.
Years ago, before she had met Le Beau, the Indians away back on the Waterfound had called Nanette "Tanta Penashe" ("the Little Bird") because of the marvellous sweetness of her voice.

And this morning she sang as she prepared the birthday feast; the sun flooded through the windows, and Miki whimpered happily and thumped his tail, and the baby cackled and crowed, and The Brute was forgotten.

In that forgetfulness Nanette was a girl again, sweet and beautiful as in those days when old Jackpine, the Cree--who was now dead--had told her that she was born of the flowers.

The wonderful dinner was ready at last, and to the baby's delight Nanette induced Miki to sit on a chair at the table.